Hands Tied
by ArtChica
Summary: "Please!" Merlin begged the guards, "Tell Prince Arthur I need to speak with him. It's about his safety and the future of Camelot!" Merlin gets caught using magic and has to warn Arthur about the constant magical threats to Camelot before the execution at dawn.


Please!" he begged the guards, "Tell Prince Arthur I need to speak with him. It's about his safety and the future of Camelot!" Merlin gripped the bars of the cell, staring at the guards until one took pity on him (or got fed up with the shouting) and walked toward the stairwell.

"No promises, sorcerer. The prince isn't likely to want to speak with the likes of you."

Merlin paced around the cell, thinking, planning. He would have to be brief- he hadn't much time and Arthur likely wouldn't have much patience. He was sorry that his friends had been forbidden to see him, but grateful for the time to think.

He paced some more.

Then sat on the bench.

Then stared at the doorway Arthur would come through.

By sundown, Merlin had lost hope of an audience with the prince. Perhaps Uther had forbidden it, or perhaps Arthur was too angry with Merlin.

The warlock yelled in frustration, kicking the wall. He had been so _stupid._ He had gotten better at his control; he was supposed to have stopped the accidental magic. He'd certainly suffered enough bruises and spilled food and dropped armor for his efforts. But he'd hardly expected the tapestry to fall off the banister of the balcony. If he had, he would have just let it fall, like any normal person would. Instead, his magic leapt to action, catching the tapestry midair. Right in front of a guard.

Merlin had been promptly dragged before Uther and put on trial. Nothing he said cooled the king's hateful anger. And now Merlin was going to fail his destiny. Arthur would be in danger, the kingdom would not have magical protection, and Arthur would see this as yet another example of magic's evil. The future of Albion was as good as dead. But that didn't mean Merlin wouldn't still try.

"You have five minutes, Merlin. What's this about a threat to me and to Camelot?"

Merlin spun around, hope warming his heart. Five minutes was not neatly enough time, but it would have to be.

"Listen to me, Arthur. I know you don't have to, but for once just listen." He gripped the bars, staring intently at his friend, who made no reply.

"Magic has been banned from Camelot, but creatures and beings of magic still live here. Be alert, be wary of their intentions, and above all, do not provoke them. If you or the kingdom face another magical attack, go to Gaius, and ask for his help."

"You want me to ask an old physician to take up a sword?" Arthur gave him a look that told Merlin exactly how idiotic Arthur thought he was.

"Knowledge and books. Gaius has both. You've seen how useless swords are against magic. I just hope those books will give you non-magical solutions. You're not likely to find another sorcerer willing to help you."

Arthur scowled, but Merlin pressed on before he could interrupt. "When you go out on expeditions, be extra careful. I'll no longer be there to watch your back." He refrained from mentioning tournaments and challenges, knowing Arthur would take offence at the implication that his success was due to cheating.

As it was, Arthur still scoffed at him. "You? Watch my back? Don't be ridiculous, _Mer-_ lin."

"You're not _listening_. Please, Arthur, you must be on your guard. You can't fight magic without magic, and Uther has made an enemy of all magic users."

"My father did well enough without it during the Great Purge," Arthur pointed out.

"Fire and nooses and fear won't break a curse, or kill a dragon, or fend off angry spirits. And if that fear drives people to lash out, to retaliate, then magical attacks will grow tenfold. All your swords and spears will be useless.

"Oh!" Merlin straightened up with sudden remembrance. "Sword! Where's Excalibur? What have you done with it?"

Arthur was thrown off by the unexpected question. "It's in my chambers, next to the rest of the armor you were supposed to polish today."

"Good. Do not lose that sword, Arthur. It was forged in a dragon's breath and can kill even that which is already dead. Very important when facing immortal armies. _Do not lose that sword._ You and you alone must wield it."

Arthur stared at him, not sure whether Merlin was lying again, or had gone mad. A sword forged in a dragon's breath?

But Merlin had more to say, and he had only seconds left of the time Arthur had granted.

"When Morgana returns, and she will, run. For god's sake, just run. She's too powerful. It's Uther and the throne she wants, not you, but she will destroy anyone and anything that stands in her way."

"We've defeated her before," Arthur dismissed the idea, "and I'll not run from my sister like a cowardly child."

" _I_ have defeated her before," Merlin corrected, "and just barely. I know better than to ask you to take the easy way out; I'm asking you to be smart. Retreat and live long enough to find a way to defeat her."

Arthur finally (finally!) took the warning seriously. Merlin sagged against the bars. His time was up, his message delivered.

To his surprise, Arthur lingered.

"What were you doing with that tapestry, anyway? Seems like a stupid way to get caught after all these years."

Merlin looked sheepish. "It was stupid. I caught it so that it wouldn't fall downstairs."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Caught it. And how exactly did it get off the banister in the first place?"

Merlin reddened. "I tripped and knocked it over."

A startled laugh burst from Arthur. "Of course you did. You really are completely useless, aren't you?"

"I'd like to see _you_ try to be graceful with your hands always tied behind your back," Merlin grumbled.

"Your hands aren't tied, Merlin."

"Well, no, not literally. But it's what it feels like. Magic, for me, is instinctual. It's… a reflex. If someone throws and apple at you, your hand reaches out to catch it, without you even thinking about it. If someone throws an apple at me, my magic reaches out to catch it. Being in Camelot, I've had to learn how to stop that from happening. I've not quite mastered the physical reflexes yet, hence all the dropped objects and hard falls."

"So you're not actually clumsy? You're just… crippled? In an manner of speaking?"

Merlin nodded. "Imagine walking around gripping your wrists behind your back. You stumble, and naturally your hands try to break your fall. Only, you won't let go of your wrists, and fall on your face, because if anyone saw you using your hands, if anyone suspected that you _had_ hands, you would be executed. For the crime of having hands, and using them in Camelot."

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin," Arthur chided. But Merlin could tell he was imagining it. After a long silence, Arthur spoke again. "You know, I had thought the threat was just a way to get me down here so you could plead for your life. But you haven't. Aren't you afraid of dying?"

"Of course I am. All living things are afraid to die. But it's also a bit of a relief, really, to not have to hide and lie anymore. Right now, I'm more afraid that when I die, I'll have failed you, and everyone who has dreamed of a peaceful, united Albion.

"You're such an idiot," Arthur said.

' _You're the bravest man I've ever met_ ,' he didn't say. Merlin understood anyway.

"I have to leave now. Can't have anyone getting suspicious." Arthur looked like he regretted the words. He turned to go, not wanting to say good-bye to his friend, the one who had maybe betrayed him, or who had maybe been betrayed by him. He wasn't sure about anything at the moment.

"Arthur? I am sorry."

"Sorry?" He didn't look back, but did pause.

"Sorry you found out this way. I wanted to tell you myself, when the time was right."

Arthur did turn then, looking over his shoulder and frowning at the sorcerer behind bars. "Would the time have ever been right?"

Merlin could only shrug. "I suppose we'll never know." And with that, Arthur turned and left.

-M-M-M-M-M-

At dawn the next day, the gathered crowd stood, watching the gallows expectantly. The executioner waited patiently off to the side. The king and the prince stood at attention above it all. Everything was in order for the sorcerer's execution. Everything, that is, except for the sorcerer. He had vanished into thin air sometime between the prince's visit and the dawn.

Arthur held back a smile. He was not going to have to stand there and watch his friend die, after all.


End file.
